Flicker of Radiance
by Dark Mrowlidash
Summary: Miguel of the Barthez Battalion is torn. Should he live a life dominated by Barthez? Or should he bet all he's got on that one flicker of radiance, the one person who might just be able to free him... Tyson.
1. Prologue

Flicker of Radiance

Hiya all, this is yet ANOTHER deviation from 'A New World', because Dark Mrowlidash is an evil fiend who can't finish stories.

This is my first M rated fic on so go easy on me, although this isn't my first brush with such fiction, this is my first time posting such work.

Since I haven't seen all of Beyblade G-Revolution, I don't know the plot perfectly, so if something's off that you can forgive (about anything really, not just the beyblade stuff), by all means, do

I guess that's it.

Prologue: Reflections on the Battle Won

I stood there. The cameras were flashing, the roar of the crowd was sounding in my ear. I could hear the energetic voice of DJ Jazzman: "Winner, Miguel!"

But I was torn.

A part of me sided with my coach, I was the hero, I had brought victory to my team! But another part… was disgusted.

Disgusted at how low I'd stoop. I cheated. I cheated to defeat Ray, and every other opponent so far!

I was less than alive. I wasn't a true blader. I had no blader spirit. I was surprised my bitbeast could stand me. There was only one thing keeping me going. One person. And that person was holding my arm high, crowning me the champion for the crowd.

Coach Barthez. The man who made me who I was, the man who polished my beyblade skills and made me a star.

He did so much for me. So much. It was only right to do for him. Whatever he asked.

Even if it killed me.


	2. My Favorite Boy

Chapter One: My Favorite Boy

"Great job Miguel!" said Coach Barthez, giving me a smile. "With my cunning and your skill, we will never be defeated!"

Yeah, we'd won. But I felt like we had lost.

And I apparently was displaying this.

Around me, the others were celebrating, and thinking about the next battle. But Barthez, with a wave of his hand, dismissed them, leaving him and I, alone.

"Miguel…" he said, inching closer to me. "We should… talk."

He stepped closer then, taking my hand. He leaned down, and pressed his lips against my ear.

"Miguel, what's wrong? You won, you should be happy," he whispered.

I didn't know what to say.

"I am happy, sir."

"No, you're not. But I think I know why…"

He took my hand, leading me to a side door. This was his room, a place that was normally forbidden to us.

It was a simple room, nothing fancy, as it wasn't a permanent dwelling.

It did have the basics however, and the one piece of furniture that we were both eyeing.

The bed. He led me to it.

"Sit, sit," he said, moving to the back of the bed and sitting down, leading me to sit down next to him. He then, took my hand, and guided it… into his lap, pressing down, letting me feel the heated area, my fingertips curling slightly inwards, grazing against the growing bulge.

I didn't look surprised. This had happened before.

Barthez smiled at me. "This is what you want, right Miguel? You want to show your gratitude for all I've done. You want.. to give me pleasure."

I knew that inside, I did want to show gratitude for all Barthez had done for me. But was this how I should be doing it?

"Yes Coach Barthez. I want to give you pleasure," I echoed, curling my fingers just a bit more.

He leaned in toward me, kissing my cheek, surprisingly gently. I did not stiffen, like I would if it was anyone else.

He sensed I was vulnerable. Was he taking advantage of me?

I looked up at him. He could sense my uncertainty. Sure we'd done this before—but was it right?

"Don't worry Miguel. You're not doing anything wrong. You're just… displaying how you feel. And I know how badly you want to make your coach feel good…"

I couldn't argue. There was nothing I wouldn't do for Barthez.

He extended his arm, wrapping it around my waist, pulling me tenderly toward him. I moved with him, and soon I was pressed snugly against his body. Peppering my face with little kisses, he paused before claiming my lips, kissing me intensely, shifting my body on top of him without me even noticing.

After the kiss I found myself lying against him, my eyes, slightly crossed, gazing, my nose touching his own. My fingers now lie deep in his purpleish tresses, and my legs were on either side of him, holding me in place and allowing the growing, heated stiffness between my legs to mingle with Barthez's, creating a dull friction that practically begged to be satisfied.

He reached up, stroking the side of my face. "Miguel…" he whispered, making my name sound so sensual, so amazingly erotic and forbidden. I could only lean into his fingers, enjoying their texture on my smooth skin.

Leaving my face, Barthez's long fingers traveled down my neck to my shoulders. He tugged at my vest, a signal that it was time for it to go, and I paused, rising up, taking it off and flinging it to the side.

Now, I was sitting up, straddled across his lap and looking down at him. He was licking his lips as he sat up and kissed me, more roughly than the last time, tongue demanding entrance to my mouth. I gave the access readily, feeling his warm hands sliding underneath my shirt, pulling it upward, over my head.

The shirt was also thrown off the bed, and I could feel Barthez's fingers roaming over my exposed chest. He seemed to pause for a second, and I knew what that meant. It was my turn.

Taking the offensive, I leaned down, undoing the clasps on his purple jacket. He allowed me to remove it, and I tossed it gently to the floor. The purple shirt underneath was a little more work, being long-sleeved and very inconvenient. Managing to pull it off, I let my lusting tongue do the rest, touching the wet tip to his burning skin. Flicking against one of his nipples, I felt his breath catch. At that, I spoke.

"Enjoying yourself?" I said, making the mistake of thinking I was in control.

He looked at me, and I knew he didn't like my little idea.

Before I could register what had happened, I'd been grabbed, flipped, and thrown down against the bed, Barthez's body looming over mine.

"I am enjoying myself, Miguel… But I think that it's time that I took charge again," he said tilting forward as if to kiss me, but then veering off course and heading for the side of my neck, teeth bared.

I yelped as his 'fangs' sunk in, and I knew that the mark he would leave would advertise to the world that I, belonged to him.

Finishing the bite, he lapped at the wound, almost apologetically, before seeming distracted and trailing his tongue around, under my chin, down my chest, ending where my red pants began.

He rose, poking at my pants with a finger. "These need to come off," he said, eyeing me hungrily, "Get up and remove them for me."

I quickly followed his order, rising from the bed, planting my feet on the floor.

Unbuttoning my pants and zipping them down, I hooked my thumbs so that they held my pants and my underwear, and pulled them both down slowly, before letting them drop around my ankles. Stepping out of the discarded articles, I stood, naked for Barthez's viewing pleasure.

I could tell, he was enjoying what he saw, as he licked his lips and also rose from the bed, standing in front of me, looking up, then down. He held me to him, and I could feel myself rubbing against the fabric of his white pants. Barthez smiled.

"Don't you wish I would take these pants off, Miguel? They're all that stands between us now."

"Yes. Please," I begged, feeling my lust taking hold of me.

Instantly he removed them, letting them fall to the floor to pile with my own clothing. I scanned my eyes over his now naked form, even as he led me back onto the bed.

He wasted no time.

He positioned himself and then, I could feel his entrance. I bit my lip, as not to rouse the rest of the team with my pleasured moaning, but Barthez assured me.

"Don't worry about them. They won't care about this, Miguel. Besides, they understand. So please… express your feelings."

That doubled as his warning that he was about to move, and move again, his thrusting causing me to writhe with frenzied satisfaction.

I felt myself giving over to pleasure, the world was getting light around me.. The last thing I heard was Barthez's voice, silky and low with the occasional lusty pant.

"You're my favorite boy Miguel. Never forget. It's you that I love."

I replied, a simple answer that summed up our relationship so well.

"Yes, sir."


	3. Right and Wrong I

Chapter Two: Right and Wrong, Part One

I woke in the morning to silence. The room was empty, just as I had expected it to be. Sighing, I dressed and slunk out of the room, hoping not to attract the attention of my teammates. Regardless of Barthez's reassurances, I wasn't completely positive they were 'OK' with him, for lack of a better phrase, fucking me. Even if it was…

"An act of love?" I questioned out loud. "Was it?"

"Was what, Miguel?"

I turned quickly to see Mathilda, beyblade in hand, staring at me.

"Nothing," I quickly dismissed.

She looked narrowly into my eyes, she knew I was lying. "Care to explain last night Miguel? We all heard you two… You know that it's wrong Miguel, why do you let him—"

I wouldn't have it. "What I do is none of your business, Mathilda."

"It is my business if you're doing something harmful to yourself! This team is like a family, and we should all look out for eachother! What Barthez is doing to you is a matter we all need to deal with!" she said, eyes getting a bit misty. "You shouldn't have a sexual relationship with him, Miguel. It's wrong, don't you realize that?"

I let Mathilda's words sink in, but not far enough. My defiance would win in this battle.

I looked up at her, determined to drive my point home. "I love him, Mathilda. He loves me. There's nothing wrong with that."

Mathilda just shook her head. "You think you love him, Miguel. Think. But really, it's just part of his control over you! I know we're all intimidated by him, but you shouldn't let him do things like that with you because of it. I would refuse, Miguel. Regardless of what he says. He's brainwashed you."

"She's right, Miguel." Came the simultaneous voices of Claude and Aaron, who had been listening from the hall and picked this time to add their pieces.

Blinded by anger, I snapped. "So you're all against me? Well, I don't care! I'm Team Captain and I declare this conversation over! What I do in private is private, and you have no say in it! If you think it's wrong, keep it to yourselves! Now, all of you, to the practice room. Right now!"

They weren't about to follow my orders.

"You're making a big mistake Miguel!"

"Yeah, and who put you in charge?"

I could feel a fight beginning to break out, when the door opened, slowly.

"I did," came the voice of Coach Barthez, "Now off the practice room, you three. For hassling your teammate so, I want two thousand beyblade flips, each!"

Mathilda and the others nodded. "Yes Coach Barthez sir!" they said, filing off to the practice room without a complaint.

When it was just Barthez and I alone again, I slumped against the wall. "They don't approve."

"Funny, I thought they would be understanding. I guess not everyone appreciates love," he said, stepping forward to kiss me.

I accepted the kiss, it was short, sweet and wonderful, and I leaned against him as he held me close.

I felt so secure. I just knew that no matter what, Jean Paul Barthez would always love me.

And I stayed in his arms.

Upon being informed by the officials that our next matches were to be held in Spain, we quickly boarded our flight and were on our way.

It was dark now, the dim light inside the plane was tiring on my eyes, and my eyelids drooped as I sat in my reclined seat. I yawned. I wanted to go to sleep, but I found that I could not.

My mind was racing.

All sorts of thoughts ran through my head, some about the upcoming match, which I learned would be against the BBA Revolution, but most thoughts had drifted back to this morning, where my teammates' words haunted me. It all led to burning questions, the types that needed to be answered.

Is this right? Is any of this right?

And if it's wrong, do I care?

I knew that my relationship with Coach Barthez might not be appropriate in the eyes of some, but that was one thing. Whether or not it was right, was another. But did it matter to me? Was this love? Or was he taking advantage of me?

Sighing, I nestled my head into my airline pillow, not feeling like searching for the answers to the questions just yet. The idea of staying in a fog about the issues seemed like a good idea at the time, and I let myself drift off to sleep.


	4. Right and Wrong II

Chapter Three: Right and Wrong, Part Two

Upon our arrival in Spain, we took the time to set up our rooms in the hotel, and do a little beyblade practice before heading out to see the sights.

Barthez, as usual, had left us to go to some formal meeting, something fancy that didn't concern us. We didn't care too much, we all had our own plans for the day.

At least, some of us did. My plan consisted of wandering around aimlessly until time for the team meeting, which was a bit later.

Around the stadium where the Beybattles would be held, was every fan in the country, it seemed, and every vendor—selling every beyblade-related item they had. I saw several shirts with my face on them, and even a few boys dressed as me. I walked slowly, only increasing my pace when I heard the cry of a love-struck fangirl: "Oh, it's Miguel!"

I didn't feel like dealing with anybody right now. So I just kept on walking.

My feet lead me to another area, away from the bustle going on by the stadium.

This place was quiet, just a bridge over some calm water and… Mathilda.

She was holding Pierce Hedgehog tightly in her hand, looking much like she was about to cry. I knew why.

She spotted me then, turning and giving a weak smile. "Hey Miguel."

I waved. "Hey Mathilda. Ready for your battle today?" I asked, knowing full well that she was not.

She practically broke down. "How can Barthez want me to do such a thing? Pierce Hedgehog means the world to me, and he wants to put it in danger!"

"I understand Mathilda, but…"

"No you don't!" she snapped. "You'd jump off a cliff if Barthez said to! You don't understand how it feels to not want to obey. After all, you're having sex with him!"

That hit pretty hard. I knew that yes, what Mathilda said was true, but… that didn't mean I would follow his every order… Did it?

"You cheat at beybattling all the time by his orders, Miguel, and I never see it affect you! Don't you care that our team is a fraud? Aren't you ashamed?"

"I am, Mathilda. But what can I do?"

"You know what you can do, Miguel."

I stood in silence, and Mathilda went back to staring sadly at Pierce Hedgehog. I knew that she was right.

"Oh no!" Mathilda cried, all of a sudden looking very worried.

It hit me like a brick to the face. "The team meeting!"

We both began to scramble back to the hotel, putting our conversation on hold for the moment.

The water that flowed down my face was just as symbolic as it was embarrassing, the unshed tears from the agony of living this false life running down to soak into the collar of my shirt.

A seething Barthez held the empty glass, spitting anger my way for daring to be late to his team meeting.

"God damn it Miguel!" he shouted, slamming the glass down on the table. "I will not accept this behavior from you! You knew we had a meeting!"

Mathilda tried her best to ease my pain, but I would not let her. "Mister Barthez, no! I caused him to be—" I cut her off with a wave of my arm.

"No, Mathilda. It's my fault alone. I'm team captain and I'm responsible."

Barthez narrowed his eyes. "This won't go unpunished Miguel. You'll spend an extra hour in the practice room after the others have finished."

"Yes sir," I replied, not wanting to anger him any further.

"Now before I dismiss you to practices, line up!"

The four of us quickly lined up against the wall, awaiting our orders like perfect soldiers.

But as Barthez barked out his commands, I could barely listen, preoccupied with the thoughts from my conversation with Mathilda.

Was any of this right? Should I do something about it?

These questions raced though my mind, even as Barthez finished speaking and we marched off to the practice room.


	5. Fed Up

Chapter Four: Fed Up

At the beybattle, I was strangely silent. I stood beside Barthez just as I had been instructed. Just leave it all to him, I was told.

In front of us, Mathilda battled Daichi of the BBA Revolution in the Knossos Stadium, a labyrinth beystadium which has maze-like walls that were perfect for our sneaky strategies.

I watched Mathilda, she battled with all she had. But I knew that didn't really matter. I knew what the outcome of the battle would be, for both bladers.

I could only stare in horror as Daichi activated his Strata Dragoon's Vast Cutter. That would trigger Mathilda's special attack… The self-destruct.

It was only a matter of seconds—the explosion of beyblade parts smashing into Strata Dragoon, practically destroying it, but that moment burned into my mind.

A loss for out team, yes, but a win in the long run, all I had to do now, was beat Tyson and we would win by default.

A genius plan, really, if your kind of thing was underhanded, sneaky, and… wrong.

Mathilda wrenched her eyes shut, she could not look at the wreckage of Pierce Hedgehog just yet.

Daichi, obviously, could not control his anger, almost lunging at Barthez, before being restrained and dragged away by a surprisingly level-headed Tyson.

By now, Mathilda was clutching the remains of her beyblade to her face, sobbing lightly. I walked up to her, wondering about it all. Yeah, we should probably win now, but only if we kept cheating. It was my job to seize the victory. And that meant to follow Barthez's orders exactly. Right?

"Mathilda. Your sacrifice will win the beybattle."

"I know… But right now, Miguel, I don't care," she said, gathering herself and moving out of my way.

I stepped up to the beystadium first, Tyson following from his side.

Our eyes met. While Tyson was not outwardly angry, in his eyes, burned a desire for revenge, but also… what was that I saw?

DJ Jazzman began the countdown.

3…

2…

1…

Let it rip!

I launched my Dark Gargoyle immediately, and Tyson did the same with his Dragoon. After a few initial slams, I heard Barthez's voice in my ear.

"Miguel. You know the plan. Let him think he has this, but then, you know what to do, right?"

"Yes, sir."

Fleeing from Dragoon, I led my beyblade behind a wall. Tyson followed, and that was all it took to gain control of the match.

Once our beyblades were out of sight, I released the hidden twin blades from my beyblade. Dragoon charged me, and was instantly smashed away. Tyson was shocked, but not too much. By the time we left the wall area, the blades had been pulled back.

After this, I just smashed at his blade, over and over, and finally, released the twin blades again for a smash that sent Dragoon flying straight through a labyrinth wall, causing rubble to crumble down on top of it.

"No! Dragoon!"

I would have smiled, but I felt too cheap. The match was ours now, anyway. I turned to walk away, just glad it was over.

I was genuinely surprised when Tyson called me back to the dish.

"Where do you think you're going, Miguel?" Tyson called. "Take a listen, will ya?"

I did. And from beneath the rubble, I heard the faint sound of… a spinning beyblade? It couldn't be!

"Come on out Dragoon!" cried Tyson, and his beyblade burst from the pile of broken wall easily, landing back in the beystadium.

"No! This isn't supposed to happen!" I heard Barthez yell.

For the first time in the tournament I was uncertain on my next move. Tyson knew all my tricks now. And Barthez was just as flustered as I was…

"Don't try anything funny, Miguel. I won't fall for it this time."

I felt I had to prove myself. "I can beat you in a fair match!"

"Not while you're on that team, Miguel. Not while Barthez controls you."

I froze.

Was Barthez really controlling me?

"You need to break free, Miguel. Beyblade with honor. With pride. And truly give your all without cheating. You haven't felt a true victory ever, have you?"

His eyes bored into mine, and I finally identified the mystery emotion. It was pity. Tyson felt bad for me!

"Miguel! What is that idiot saying to you?" Barthez demanded.

"Nothing, sir."

"Then attack! Use your secret weapon!"

I released the twin blades and headed for Dragoon. But Tyson shook his head.

"I won't fall for it again, Miguel," he said.

I paused. What should I do?

"Miguel! This needs to end! Destroy Tyson's beyblade now!" Barthez roared in my ear.

Destroy his beyblade?

It flashed before me once more, the looks on Mathilda and Daichi's faces. Their beyblades had been destroyed too. All that sadness and anger, caused by Barthez! And if I followed his order, I'd just be adding to it…

"Prove that you're a real beyblader, Miguel!"

How I wanted to!

"Raaaaa!" I shouted, retracting the hidden blades and urging Dark Gargoyle to attack.

I heard Barthez in my ear. "Miguel now! Destroy his beyblade! Smash it into tiny pieces! Make it so that Tyson can never—"

I didn't hear the rest. All I heard was one voice in my head.

'You know what you can do, Miguel.'

I did. Taking the communication device from my ear, I threw it down.

"No!" I heard Barthez yell.

"About time," said Tyson, smiling. But his smile soon disappeared. "Dragoon, Galaxy Storm!"

"Fire Execution!" I cried out.

A whirling vortex of fire clashed with a massive storm. The attacks engulfed eachother, and everything went bright.

When the light faded, I saw the outcome. My blade had stopped spinning, but Tyson's Dragoon was still going strong.

I'd lost.

I fell to my knees. How could I go back to my team now? I felt like I could cry, and I might have—but I heard a warm voice above me.

It was Tyson. He handed me my beyblade and smiled. "I'm proud of you."

I stood, and smiled back.

It would be my last moment of happiness for some time. I could practically feel Barthez's anger growing.

"You're going to regret that, Miguel," was all he said.

But I knew it was a promise, a promise that surely spelled harm for me…


	6. Pain and Punishment

Chapter Five: Pain and Punishment

All the hours in the practice room I'd had to spend were merely a warm-up for the real punishment I would receive, and both Barthez and I knew it.

It was late now, way after the earlier beybattle, which we'd lost, because of me.

I didn't feel ashamed. I felt proud of myself. I felt that I had regained my blader spirit, somewhat.

Cheating was wrong. And if Barthez wanted me to cheat, then my only choice would be to disobey him.

And so I stood, leaning against the wall in Barthez's room, waiting in silence for him to come in.

All the rest of the team had been sent to bed—it would be just him and I, alone, like so many other times.

The moments flashed through my mind. All those times he'd touched me… And I so willingly let him without giving it thought. Was it wrong as well? Was there a connection…

My thoughts were instantly cut short by the swinging open of the door. Barthez then stepped in, closing the door behind him.

He stood so he was a few feet away, directly in front of me. His eyes narrowed as he looked into mine.

"So, Miguel. You know what you have done. What do you have to say for yourself?"

I knew he was giving me a chance to voice my opinion, but I also knew that I now faced a dangerous task. I spoke softly.

"Mister Barthez, I cannot cheat at beybattles anymore."

"So what you're saying is that my strategies aren't good enough for you? I what I plan beneath you?"

A hard question to answer. 'Yes' would be correct, but wrong, and 'No' would put me back to square one with no argument. I had to say yes.

"I'm sorry, sir, but yes—such schemes are beneath me, beneath any decent beyblader!"

I could see anger flaring in his eyes, as he shifted from foot to foot in what was probably an attempt to calm himself.

He said nothing for a second, just thinking. Then, he leaned forward.

"So my plans aren't good enough for you. Does that mean that I'm not good enough for you?"

I gulped lightly. I knew that was coming.

"No, I didn't say that…"

"Then why, Miguel? Why won't you follow my orders anymore?"

I could feel slight tears welling up. I didn't know what to do. So I just said what I felt.

"Because they're wrong. Only the weak and cowardly cheat at beyblading. And you have no right to—"

I was quickly cut off. Not by words, but by the sharp crack of Barthez's fist connecting with my face.

The force caught me by surprise, causing me to knock my head against the wall and slump to my knees.

"Weak and cowardly, huh Miguel? I've had enough of your opinions! I have the right to do whatever I want with my soldiers! And you—are one of them!"

A swift kick to my gut followed. The pain lanced thought my entire body and I fell over to the side, holding my stomach and trying my best to curl into a defensive ball.

It didn't matter though. Barthez smashed his foot into my sides repeatedly, shouting things that were mostly inaudible from all the pain.

When the kicking ceased, I uncurled slightly, hoping that it was over. But then I felt a warm feeling at the top of my head and looked up to see Barthez's fingers in my hair. It was gentle at first, he stroked me almost lovingly.

It didn't last.

Almost immediately after I had gotten used to the stroking, he gripped at my hair with force and yanked me to my feet. Turning me around, all while maintaining a grip on my hair, I now faced the wall. I didn't know what was about to happen.

"This is for being disobedient!" Barthez shouted, and he rammed my face into the wall.

The pain was incredible. At the first contact with the wall I heard a sickening crunch sound, and I prayed that my nose wasn't broken.

I didn't know what was more painful, his jerking my hair, or the blunt crash of the wall against my face—but I did know what was bleeding.

I could feel the blood streaming down from my nose, flooding into my mouth, into my shirt. I was fully crying by now, causing a mix of blood and tears to paint my face in shades of sadness and ache.

But Barthez had not finished. Somewhere along the way to disfiguring my face he'd slipped a hand beneath my shirt, his nails raking into my chest roughly, causing the skin to tear open and new blood to spring forth, causing fine red lines to show on the surface of the shirt.

I could feel myself beginning to black out, and Barthez sensed this, pulling me back from the wall violently and letting me crumple to the floor.

I lay on my back, gasping for breath, when his foot stomped down on my chest, right against the wounds. I couldn't breathe.

"So Miguel… just how weak and cowardly am I now?"

I squirmed, without air I couldn't respond to him, and he knew this. Smiling, stared down at me.

"I hate how you're acting, but really, you are so beautiful Miguel. So beautiful when you submit..."

I nodded weakly, feeling the faint world of the unconscious stealing over me.

Surprisingly, Barthez then removed his foot from me, and picked me up off the floor and propped me against the wall.

"I've got a meeting to go to, it's for all the beyblade team coaches and I'll be gone for a while," he said, leaning in and kissing my bloody lips. Licking his own lips afterwards, he gave a dangerous smile and walked out of the room.

"Be good…" was all I heard as the door to the outside slammed shut.

I was about to leave the room myself when my legs gave out on me. The last thing I felt before fading to black was the rough carpeting irritating my face.


	7. Take Care of Me

Chapter Six: Take Care Of Me

I woke slowly and hazily—only to find my face planted in a soggy mess of blood-soaked carpet.

Staggering to my feet, completely unaware of the time, I knew that there was only thing I needed to do. I had to get out of here. Now.

My nose was still dripping blood and I left a trail of blood droplets all through the rooms, on my way to the door. My head hurt with intensity as I pulled the door open and found my way to the ground floor of the hotel.

Running like a madman, I bolted through the hotel doors, and out into the cool night air, which would have been refreshing if I had really noticed it.

My legs just ran. Past the great stadium where the beybattles were held, past several buildings. As far as they could take me, and yet they seemed to be on a predetermined course.

I found myself at this same bridge I had been before, where my conversation with Mathilda had been. I could run no longer. I slumped to my knees at the side of the bridge.

Watching the blood drip, drip from my nose, painting my reflection on the water an eerie red, thoughts raced through my mind.

Why don't I just jump into the water?

It won't matter. No one will care. I'll let the current carry me to a new life… in the next world.

I began to lean forward. But before I could fall…

"Miguel! What are you doing?" came a voice. I knew who the voice belonged to, but I did not turn my head.

"Hey!" he called, running up to me. I sharply twisted my head away, so he couldn't see the blood.

"Miguel… why are you out here? What are you doing so close to the edge?"

"Go away Tyson." I demanded. "Leave me be."

But he did not leave me be. Instead, he took hold of my chin and guided it toward him, wanting to see my face which I was trying to keep hidden. When he saw my bloodstained face, he jumped a bit in shock.

"Oh my god, how did this happen to you?"

"None of your business, Tyson," I said, struggling to stand again. Rising to my feet caused Tyson to really see the extent to which I had bled, my shirt revealing the scratch-wound lines that complained with my every movement.

Tyson would not be denied. "Tell me, Miguel. If someone attacked you, it's important that we all know who it is! What if they come after someone else!"

"They won't, Tyson. This wasn't a random attack."

"Then what was it?" Tyson said, eyes widening as he began to realize before I could speak.

"It was a punishment."

Tyson's eyes filled with fire. "It was Barthez."

I would have answered him, but at that moment a pain in my head caused me to feel faint once more. I began to fall forward, hoping that I would blank before I had to feel the crunch of the stone bridge against my already abused face, but instead I felt warm, strong arms catch me.

"T-tyson?" was all I could speak before I faded again.

I woke up in a bright room. My shirt was off, I could feel the air against my chest. I reached a hand up to my nose, expecting to smear my fingers with blood, but instead, I just felt skin. Touching my chest gave the same result, the wounds were still there, but someone had cleaned them.

My clouded vision cleared up then, and I saw Tyson, sitting on a chair.

"Welcome back, Miguel. You were out for a while. I cleaned you up, I hope you don't mind. I washed your shirt," he said, getting up from the chair and walking over to me.

I was lying on a bed, and by the looks of the junk all over the place, this must be Tyson's room. But how did I get here?

"How did I get back to the hotel, Tyson?"

"I carried you!" he said, flexing his muscles. "I'm stronger than I look. But that's not really important now is it. You need to tell me about Barthez. Yeah, I know you disobeyed him, but that's no reason for him to beat you like he did. Does he beat the others?"

"No," I said, half-lying. He didn't beat the others because they followed orders.

Tyson looked at me. He was wondering to say, no doubt. I was certain he'd never been in this situation before. "Hey, Miguel. Tell me. If you think that what Barthez is doing is wrong, why did you follow his orders before?"

Ah. The question I did NOT want to answer. "I just did, Tyson. We've all been conditioned to do whatever he says. And…"

"And what?"

Silence. Should I tell Tyson the truth?

Eventually, someone has to know.

"Tyson. If you thought you loved someone with all your heart… wouldn't you too do whatever they wanted? Anything to please them?"

Tyson froze. "You.. love him?"

"I don't know anymore Tyson. I don't know. All the things I've been through, how he's trained me to beyblade and made love to me and beaten me down…"

"Wait—made love to you?" Tyson echoed, looking very disturbed. "You had sex with him?"

"Yes, Tyson. Practically every night," I admitted. "Everyone's been telling me it's wrong. I wouldn't believe, because I never believed he would hurt me… It seems that he cares about his orders being followed more than he cares for me," I said, feeling tears welling up in my eyes. I was crying before Tyson could respond, the streams of tears flowing down my cheeks.

I expected Tyson to be disgusted, perhaps even throw me out. But I never expected him to lift me into a gentle hug.

"Miguel… It's alright. You can cry."

And I did, weeping into Tyson's blue hair and holding him to me like a precious lifeline. He was my only hope now. I couldn't let go… but eventually, I did.

"Tyson… I don't know what to do…"

Tyson then hopped onto the bed, sitting beside me. "Barthez should be at the same meeting Hiro's at. It's going to be a bit before they get back. Stay with me."

I snuggled against Tyson like a little child. He smiled, but I could sense anger in his eyes.

"Miguel," he said sternly. "Barthez is going to pay for doing this to you. I won't let him get away with hurting you like this."

I looked up at him. Did I want him to get revenge?

"Tyson… this is my problem—"

"No! I'm involved now, and I will put a stop to your pain! He's evil, Miguel! He can do nothing but hurt you!"

I gazed into his eyes. Finding a genuine worry for my well-being, I relaxed, and lay slackly against him.

"Miguel. I won't let him touch you again. I promise."

I was about to protest this, still hanging onto the ghost-love I had for Barthez, when I felt Tyson lean down, and kiss my cheek. I was surprised.

"That's a real kiss, Miguel. From someone who truly cares about you. Let me help you."

He sounded so inviting, and I weakly embraced him, feeling his fingers going gently through my hair.

I'd had no idea that Tyson cared about me so. But now that I knew, it made me feel better about all of this. I had somewhere to turn. All my life I had felt that I had nowhere to go. But now, I felt that I had a new home, lying pressed against Tyson. A home where I belonged.

And so I let myself doze off, enjoying the comfort of Tyson's body.

When I awakened, it was to a slight shake.

"Wake up Miguel. You need to get back to your hotel room. I don't want Barthez to get angry at you again!"

I blinked softly, Tyson's concerned face greeting me.

I wanted to stay. But even I knew that I could not.

"Tyson… What should I do?"

"Don't worry. I said I would protect you. I will. But here's your shirt," he said, handing me the blue garment. "You need to get going."

Taking the shirt, I pulled it on and rose from the bed. Tyson helped me to my feet, and we walked out into the hallway.

When we'd reached the Barthez Battalion room, we both paused.

"Thank you, Tyson. I thank you for all you've done," I said, smiling. "I really appreciate it. You pulled me back from the edge."

Tyson blushed at my seriousness. "Anything for a friend."

Standing in front of the door, we looked at eachother, neither one of us ready to part just yet.

And then, it happened. Without even thinking, we both leaned in.

Our arms twined around the other's body, and our lips met. Tyson was so warm… I could have kissed him forever. But I did not. Eventually, the kiss was broken, we released eachother, and without another word headed in opposite directions, Tyson back to his room and me into the Barthez Battalion room.

Closing the door behind me, I walked to my own door, opened it, and flopped down on my bed. Not even bothering to get under the covers, I grabbed my pillow and squeezed it.

I didn't know what I was feeling. With such a warped idea of love I didn't dare try to identify my feelings, instead favoring just labeling them as intense and engaging. I wanted to see Tyson again. Soon.

For not the first time that night, sleep washed over my body, and this time, I welcomed it happily, looking forward to my dreams, for once.


	8. Pondering the Issue

Chapter Seven: Pondering the Issue

It's a short chapter.

This chapter will be from Tyson's POV.

After parting with Miguel at the Barthez Battalion room, I decided to take the long way back to the BBA Revolution room, gather my thoughts. I knew that when he got back, Hiro wouldn't flip out on me too much for being up so late. Especially not if he knew why my mind was racing so.

I looked at my feet mostly. I didn't need to watch where I was going. No one was awake. I was alone here. I could think. About Miguel. About Barthez. And about what I could do.

Part of me wanted to storm back to the Barthez Battalion room and wait for Barthez, then give him the beating of his life, but the other part of me knew the only thing that would do is get my team disqualified.

So what could I do? I promised Miguel. I promised that I would protect him.

By now, I'd reached the BBA Revolution room. I did not enter, instead I just leaned against the door.

I was so confused. How was I supposed to protect Miguel from his own beyblade coach? It's not like I could make him leave the team…

Or could I?

Hearing footsteps down the hall, I looked to notice Hiro coming toward the door.

"What are you doing up, Tyson?" he asked.

"Couldn't sleep. But I'm alright. I'll go to bed now."

"Well, hurry up."

We walked through the door together, and as I entered my room, closing the door behind me, I sat down on the same chair as earlier.

The only solution to the problem would be for Miguel to make Barthez leave the team. And that meant that he would have to stand up to him. Prove to him that they could win without his dirty tricks. Insist that he get lost… or else.

I sighed. Could Miguel stand up to Barthez, the very person that he thought he loved?

I didn't know. But I would help him. No matter what I would help him!

Rising from the chair, I got onto the bed, lying down. I started to feel sleepy immediately.

I didn't know where the next beyblade matches would be held, but the second we arrived I knew I would have to talk with Miguel. Barthez had to go. Now.


	9. We're All With You

Chapter Eight: We're All With You

We're back to Miguel's POV.

We'd arrived in Egypt pretty late, but the fans were still out in droves to see us.

Fangirls swarmed our team as we tried to exit the airport, most of them squealing: "Miguel, oh he's so cute!"

I ignored them. I wasn't in the mood for attention right now. Not from them, anyway.

We were slowly making our way through the crowd when I heard a voice call out.

"Miguel!"

It was Tyson. The BBA Revolution had just arrived. I turned toward him beginning to take a step in his direction when…

Barthez hooked his arm around mine and pulled me away quickly. I visibly growled at him, but he didn't seem to care as I was whisked off.

Tyson began to follow after us, but stopped when he realized that there was nothing he could do, for the moment.

I tilted my head back just a bit, to catch a glimpse of his face.

He was… smiling?

When we reached our new hotel room, Barthez lined us up against the wall. Looking quite angry, he paced in front of us.

"As you all know, we lost in Spain. That kind of poor performance will not be repeated! My plans for this team important! So tell me, who is going to lead you to ultimate victory? Who is your leader?"

Claude, Aaron and Mathilda quickly answered. "You Coach Barthez!"

I was hesitant, but I answered. "You."

He looked at me for a moment, sensing my rebellion. I expected him to question me further, but instead he stepped away.

"They're having a rather lavish reception for the beyblade coaches tonight, and I will be attending. All of you know the curfew," he said, turning toward the door. "Until the morning…" he said, as he stepped out.

There was silence for a bit. No one wanted to break it, but eventually, it was Claude who spoke.

"This isn't good," he said, looking downward.

Aaron nodded. "We've got to do something about this."

"Yeah!" cried Mathilda.

"Forget it," I said, my eyes dark with rage. "Just forget it."

"What do you mean, Miguel?" Mathilda questioned.

"I want you guys to stay out of it. If anyone confronts Barthez, it will be me."

They were quiet.

"Right now, we need to concentrate on finding our purpose. We're not just Barthez's soldiers, we're beybladers. And we need to remember that."

"Yeah Miguel."

"I want you three to go to bed. I'm going to go out for a bit."

Claude stepped forward. "But Miguel, the curfew!"

"I don't care, I have something I need to do! Someone I need to see…" I said, and with that I stepped out the door, leaving my teammates alone in the hotel room.

I wandered through the floor. Most of they beyblade teams were on this floor, it wouldn't be long before I would find…

The BBA Revolution room. I walked up to the door. But before I could knock, the door burst open, Tyson racing out of it, not looking where he was going, nearly knocking into me.

"Tyson where are you going?" cried a female voice from inside. That must be Hillary, I thought.

"To find someone—hey! Miguel!"

"Hello, Tyson."

"I'll be back later, ok?" he yelled back into the room.

"Whatever," the voice said, and Tyson shut the door behind him.

We began to walk down the hall together, neither of us talking. But then, Tyson paused, and spoke.

"Miguel. Do you realize that in order for you to finally be free, Barthez has to leave your team?"

That struck home. Yeah, I knew it. But I didn't want to admit it.

"Yeah, I know, Tyson. But how? How do I make him leave?"

"You'll have to stand up to him, Miguel. Tell him that the team is yours now. That he is no longer needed. Show him that you can lead your team to victory just as well as he can—in fact, even better, because you won't be cheating."

I nodded, slowly. It was a good plan. But could I carry it out?

"I know you're a little afraid of him—your whole team is. But your anger can help you. Remember all the things he's done to you. He's hurt you, Miguel. Tell him he has no place in your team anymore!"

"Yeah, Tyson. You're right. That's what I'll do."

"It's going to be hard Miguel, but I will be with you. Okay? Don't worry about it too much."

"Right," I said. I smiled. I knew that if Tyson was with me, nothing would stop me. "Thanks a lot, Tyson. You don't know how much you've helped me."

"Like I said before, anything for a friend."

I smiled again. "Last time you said that we kissed—"

I didn't even get to finish my sentence, Tyson was on me. Pushing me gently against the wall, he seized my lips in a heated kiss, wrapping his arms around me.

I leaned back against the wall as Tyson continued the kiss, and when it was broken, he fell gently against my chest and I held him, stroking the back of his neck. He looked up at me.

"Miguel… If I told you that I loved you, would you accept it? I know that you might not want to…"

I was somewhat shocked. I wasn't expecting him to say something like that. And what could I say? I didn't know what love was! But…

I looked into Tyson's eyes. Something made me speak.

"I accept your love Tyson… I might not have ever experienced real love before, but that doesn't mean I can't try. I think… I love you too, Tyson."

As shaky as my statement was, Tyson was happy with it, and he leaned up to kiss me again. This time, I kissed him back.

After a time of kissing and snuggling against the wall, Tyson and I realized it was time for us to go our separate ways again, back to our teams.

After letting go of me, Tyson began to walk back to his door, and once he reached it, he gave me a last glance before entering.

I continued walking, entering the Barthez Battalion room down the hall silently. I expected to see an empty room, but instead I saw my teammates, standing almost where I had left them.

"You guys! I said to go to bed!" I snapped.

"No, Miguel. We know you're planning something. Something that has to do with Barthez. And we're going to be part of it. We're with you Miguel! Don't you see?" cried Mathilda, speaking for the group.

It hit me. Just like Tyson, my team was here to help me. I shouldn't be pushing them away.

"Fine. My plan is simple, guys. We show Barthez we can win without cheating for once. We tell him that we don't need him anymore."

"But can we win without cheating, Miguel? All we know how to do is cheat!"

"We can do it. I trust in our ability. We don't need to cheat ever again."

My teammates nodded. They understood the plan.

"From now on, you're our leader, Miguel," said Aaron.

"That's right! You will lead us to victory!"

I smiled. "Well then, my first order is that you all go to bed! And I mean it this time. Ok? We can't battle sleepy."

They instantly marched off to their rooms.

I lingered a bit before returning to my room, mind swarmed with thoughts of the upcoming battle.

Would we win? Could we drive Barthez off? Is it possible?

I smiled as I flopped down on my bed.

Of course it is. My team was with me!

And Tyson was with me.

And that… was all I needed.


End file.
